.‘JW/Zl-i/Efl‘fl ’ 5;. i ‘. ‘2. — i W?“ March 224. 1H9? '5‘.-. _ I " E F ('opyrlgmea. 189?. UV muons up ADAXS. ENTERED AS Smoxp CLASS MATTER AT THE NEW YURK. N. Y.. POST OFFICE. N 0 9 6 1 Published Every cBmulle q’- flila Ins, (1)110H8hel's, Ten CentIaCopy. V01 ' ' w““”d“y' srz WILLIAM STREET. NE-V YORK. “'00 ‘ Y‘m' ' “ ' / fiflp’fflmflflm THEWHITE HOODcylEF; BY JOSEPH E- BADGER, JRJ ' m z, I. l], // / W ‘ \ 4-~» A - ' .. - I. WHAT HHOUU‘I'X YUl‘ “ERIE, .\N\'W'A\".’ \VllU HAVE YOU LIZAYl-l UR LH'ENSE TU (‘OME SKCLKINH OVER MY HROL‘NDS‘IH I t 1 t 1 w A..--~ .- m fir: ' t l I 2 Captain Cowl, the_ White Hood Chief. Captain Cewl, THE WHITE HOOD CHIEF; on, Shudower Jack’s Doomed Seven. BY JOS. E. BADGER, JIt. CHAPTER I. GRIM DEATH LYING IN WAIT. WI'rIi a ragged bunch of withered grass vailing his head and shoulders, a rough- clad man was lying on top of a nearly naked rock, peering with fierce intentness through space to where, as yet only indis- tinctly visible to the unaided human eye, a small party of horsemen were leisurely picking their way through that rocky waste of foothills. Only an eye unusually keen, as well :as one thoroughly acquainted with the lay of the (ground in that particular direction, coul have decided with anything of cer- tainty whither that party were bound; but no doubts on this score appeared to trouble this grass-veiled spy, for presently he drew back, letting fall the cover for which he had no further use, making a triumphant gesture as he exultantly spoke: “Hal ha! come, ye purblind fools! Come to Where the grim bridegroom awaiteth the feast l Come—come— come 1” Rapidly sliding back until the sloping rock, afforded him perfect cover, the wildly gesticulating man arose to his feet and hurried away, seemingly without giving thought to his own peril, although the un- seen traii which he followed was far better fitted for the clinging lioofs of mountain goat than for the shed feet of man. Now he leaped across a yawning chasm, where the slightest slip of foot or mistake of eye could Only mean a shocking death. Then he stoope to grasp a spur of rock with sinewy hands, swinging himself over an otherwise impassable ledge, to drop doivn a half-score feet, balancing for an instant on a sharp pinnacle where even a cat could hardly have found secure support, then springing boldly to another resting-place, all the time drawing nearer the bottom of that grim pass, where grimmer walls arose on either hand far up toward the lazily- floating clouds of summer. At brief intervals a partly-smothered laugh came from his thin lips, with an oc- casional sentence which surely bodcd no good for yonder party of unsuspieious horsemen upon whose movements this strange being had been spying. Now and then he paused to give a swift gesture of menace, of scorn, of anticipatory triumph—his eyes, large, but strangely sunken in their hollow sockets, seeming to blaze with internal fires, his tense lips curl- ing back until white teeth showed them- selves back of the heavy, ill-cared-for mustaches which he wore. Inti‘usting his weight to a rock rooted juniper for an instant, this strange being dropped to the bottom of the pass, laugh- ing afresh as he recovered his balance; and now giving a law-pitched Whistle, in answr-r to which a trim yet strong-built bay horse came trotting forward from the place where it had been left in waiting. Stranger even than the man himself this beast would appear in the eyes of all the natives of that far Southwestern range, for its horse-furniture was better suited to the Park than the prairie, to the menage titan the mountain trails. . At one side of the hornless saddle hung a coiled lasso; at the other was suspended a Winchester magazine rifle, upon which those muscular fingers closed with almost ferocious ardor, their owner laughing once more as he sprung lightly into the saddle without touch- ing foot to the hoodless steel stirrups. A shadow passed swiftly by, and lifting his eyes, this wild man of the mountains caught sight of a blizzard sailing gracefully with its white-edged wings, itsiivid head and naked neck craning downward as though searching for its gory prey. From one of the narrow dcfiles Sounded the low-toned, melancholy bowl of the mom». tain wolf, causing the horse to start and giVe' an uneasy whimper. . “ So ho, boy!" muttered the wild driver as he stroked that arching neck with soothing hand. ” The scavengers of earth and of air scent the feast, but we are to furnish, not to form it, this timel Now—come, ye devils! ’Tis not a sleeping, unarmed man this time, but the pitilcss avenger! Come! there's grim death lying in wait!" A touch of the spurless heels sent the bay horse along the narrow, winding deflle, those glowing eyes fixed upon a point far ahead where all further progress Seemed barred by mountainous rocks. Instead, the defile here took an unusually abrupt turn, just short of which the horse- man checked his steed, gripping his ready rifle with both hands as he leaned forward in the saddle to hear-ken more intently. Minute after minute passed without sound or signal, but that strained attitude remained unaltered until, faint and indistinct, yet un- mistakable, there came the sound of human laughter from beyond that shoulder of gray roc . Again his thin lips parted far enough to afford a brief glimpse of those white teeth, looking fairly wolflsh when taken in connec- tion w ith that fierce eye glow; then the wild rider worked the lever of his rifle far enough to see that a cartridge filled the chamber, riftier which he resumed his former atti- tu 8. Little by little there came other sounds; the stroke of shod hoofs upon the flinty trail, the cheery laugh, the gay call of man to man; and then, as though scenting another of its kind in advance, one of those as yet invisible horses gave a sharp neigh. Like an echo the bay,stallion flung back that signal, sharply, defiantly, as it seemed. The rocks rung with the sounds, yct through them all the wild rider recognized the start- ling exclamation from at least one pair of lips beyond that turn in the mountain- trail. A low, fierce malcdiction escaped the wild rider's lips at this totally unexpected betray- al of his presence by that neigh of his horse; but, swift to act, he sent his steed forward, rounding that gray shoulder with a rush, then jerking his mount back to its haunches as he came in full view of the startled party of horsemen, now less than one hundred yards distant. They were three in number, all thoroughly armed and well mounted.huddled together in the middle of the trail, just as they had wrenchcd up their horses at the lirst susti» cioiis round; and even before that wild-look- ing, skin-clad figure dashed forth from cover, each man was grasping the weapon upon which he naturally placed the greatest de- pendence. ' ()nc fiery glance, then the avenger flung up a warning hand, shrilly crying aloud: “ Ilalt! Be ye men, or be ye devils—” A hoarse cry from one of the little party broke into his challenge and with it came the words: “ Thc llloodsuekerl Kill him, or We'rc—” The little Squad fell apart as though by common consent, and he who yelled forth those fierce yct frightened sentences, hastily leveled his rifle and fired a shot at the wild rider. IIis lead tore through the tangled locks of iron-gray hair which fell below that cap of wild-cat skin, but the Mad Detective. laughed like one filled. with joy as his own long rifle rose to a level. “ Ila! hat I know ye now, Man-devil! I scented your coming from afar, and while returningthanksto b‘atan for— Ila! ha! ha!" his tones growing Slll‘lilt‘l‘, fierccr, more. maniacal as he saw his destined prey turning to Seek safety in headlong flight. “Too late! Too late for all but— Die, ye dcvd!" liis weapcn spoke, the sharp report blend ing With rather than drowning his wild speech, and without even a moan or a gasp of pain the doomed man plunged headlong out of the saddle, to he a quiveringth life- less heap of human clay. All this might have been covered by the space ofa single breath, and almost before the other two adventurers could realize the nature of the peril which threatened, rifle anSWered rifle, and one more. death had been added to the blood v rccmd of the Texas border. That awful happening seemed to break The Mad Detective! Er.'“' .vr 3 __.J' ,u ‘.-n 3 ~- A‘s“ . . the charm, and as their comrade fell, the two survivors wheeled about in headlong flight, uttering cries of terror rather than of rage or of grief for the fallen. Shrilly laughed the Mad Detective at this, and as he worked the lever to throw out the empty shell, his mocking tones rung forth: “Too la'e, ye demons! The wolves and the buzzards are flocking to the feast, and though ye had wings of the Wind, my ven- geance— Ilal hal Swift be the heels of your gallant steeds, but swifter far is the crack of doom! Now, ye devil—die!” The breech-block clmed with a vicious snap, and those wildly gleaming eyes took a death-glance through the double sights, now bearing full upon the bowed back of the larger fugitive; but no report followed, for something had gone wrong with the usually trustworthy weapon. With a savagely impatient cry, the Mad Detective jerked back the lever to throw out thatdefective cartridge, but the shell jammed in the chamber, and his rifle was rendered worthless for the time being. Brief though this delay was, it proved long enough for at least one of the two fugitives to rally in part from his superstitious terror, and swinging the muzzle of his rifle to the rear, he sent a bullet back with hurried aim. Striking a stone not far from where the avenger sat his horse, the missile glanced off at an abrupt an in, its distorted shape split- ting the air Witli avicious screech which, once heard, can never be mistaken for aught else. That shot appeared to warn the wild rider, for his eyes turned from disabled rifle to flee- irig enemies, and the next instant lie was dashing along in hot chasc, guiding his steed by the pressure of his knees alone, hands busy with his Weapon, eyes fixed upon his human prey Shrill his speech and wild his laughter as be mocked those fear-stricken wretches who. with hands and with heels urged their mounts to more speedy flight. By this time the narrow defile had been left far to their rear, and now the nature of the ground grew more open, although as yet there was htit one trail along which a horseman could flee at speed. Still, not far ahead the rocks lay less thickly clustered, and coming to a point where the trail branched off to right and to left at a sharp angle, the fugitives sep- arated as by mutual consent. The Mad Avenger uttered a savage cry at this unexpected move and partly checked his bay steed while flashing lurid . glances from one. to the other; but his indecision was very brief. Both wore enemies, but one was more; and with another of his wild, insanepeals of laughter, the terrible (lestroyer paid no further attention to the one who shot off to the right, Sending his mount swifter than ever along the trail of the doomed wretch who had veered to the left. The fugitive cast another look backward as though to assure himself that his change of course. had worked as he wished, but that laughing, mocking demon of vengeance was hot upon his trail, and shivering With superstitious fear, he plied both whip and sour, riding as only one can who knows that his very life depends upon the heels or his horse. For the moment relaxing his efforts to free the clogged working parts of his rifle, the Death-rider stroked the warm neck of his steed, speaking to the animal as one might talk to a well-loved and thoroughly-trusted mate of the human race. , “Watch him, Rt‘ti Ghost! Follow his lead though it takes us to the lowest depths of Tophetl He is one of the death doomed! Follow—follow and catch. Red Ghost! ’. The bay steed gave back a sharp whinny, as though in full understanding, .tben S1 rmch,.,1‘ out in still swifter chase, while its rider now bent ail energies to repairing his repeating rifle. . . Little by little the distance between fugi- five and pursuer lessened, and when he saw mm; escape by flight alone was out of the question, the hunted wretch swung himself partly around in the saddle the better to handle his \Vinchestcr, opening fire upon that im lacable focman. The ad Detective paid no heed to those 'a "‘ . . An-l H- .x.,.,., ” ...av-'- ' Captain Cowl, the White Hood Chief. i ' alone told how strongly his worst passions m shots, although more than once he might have felt the wini of their swift passage, eyes and hands all busied with that crippled mechanism until, when scarce two-score yards of space [aided the pair, a bullet came closer to the life it was aimed at, tearing a red-furrow along one muscular shoulder. With a sound of fury which more nearly resembled the roar of a. wounded tiger than aught purely human, .the _Mad Detective slipped his Winchester into its leather sling, then grasped reins and urged his horse on— ward, more like a. demon than ever. Shot after shot the fugitive fired, but if any of the leadcn missiles found their mark they failed to check that savage charge; and then, with a scream almost as wild as was the cry of its insane master, the bay steed leaped squarelyuipon the fugitive's orse, men and beasts oin down inaconfused heap to- gether, got t e moment vailed by the cloud of dust and sand tossed upon the air. CHAPTER II. THE MAD DE'rEc'rivE’s BLIND QUEST. LIKE one who cared naught for his own bones. the Wild Rider made no effort to save himSelf when that terrible shock came, his sincwy fingers reaching for and closing upon the brown throat of his enemy, to which they clung with wonderful tenacity through all that followed. Just how the feat was accomplished that dust-cloud masked, btit an instant after the fall, the Mad Detective rolled clear of those lashing heels, bearing with him the desper- ately-struggling fugitive. Another swift turn, then the maniac crouched over his human prey, knees boring into his ribs, hands clasped about his neck in a perfect garrote, eyes fairly blazing as they gloated over that rapidly-diseoloring visage. white teeth showing wolfishly through that ragged mustache. “ At last, ye devil! After so long a time of waiting, I have ye now!" All at once the helpless wretch ceased his frantic struggles, for that pitiless clutch was doing its work only too \\ ell, and insensibility now took the place of horror. Littfe by little that terrible grip slackened while the Mad Detective keenly watched the face of his victim, ready to renew the press- ure at the first hint of trickery; but, gradu- ally, the insane glow in his sunken eyes grew less Vivid as he began to realize how complete had been his victory over this man against whose name he had years since placed the blood-red mark of a just vengeance. Though looking so terribly like a corpse, the man was not. dead, and after several min- utes had crept by, his chest heaved with a gasping breath, then sunk again in a rattling, husky sigh. llis fingers worked convulsively, his legs cramped, his heavy lids opened to let his eyes stare dimly,uncertainly at first, but. then to fix upon a slowly circling buzzard in the ‘ blue ether above him. That foul scavengerof the air gave a hoarse croak as of inquiry, while its repulsive head and ntck bent lower, the horny beak giving a clatter as though the bird was growing im- patient for its promised feast. A startand faint ('j:|(‘llitlll0n of fear told of waking memory, and with uncertain movements those trembling hands sought for the weapons which customarily hung at his belt, his head and shoulders lifting a few inches at the same time. He saw his jaded horse at a little distance, standing with bOWed back and. droo )ing head, Worn out by the chase or disable by its endin . ~ Haiti gy stood the bay steed of the Wild Rider, seemingly none the worse for chase or collision, but—— “That demon! Crazy Jack !" came through those livid lips, and. lent more strengthby the awful memory, the fugitive lifted hun— Self to a sitting posture while his hands vain- ly sought for the weapons which his captor had long since removed from his person. “ What do you miss, Oren Dupont!’ Clear and cold came the question, andas the frightened wretch turned his head swxft- ly in response, a choking.r gasp of horror told how surely he recognized that speaker. “ Mercy! Don't murder me! ’ The Mad Detective lau lied, bitter scorn filling each note, though is blazing eyes I Speech, then Oren anont was deftly placed were being stirred. His features were hard-set, scarcely less ‘ immobile than a mask of marble. He was seated upon a fragment of stone, Winchester resting carelessly across his lap, while near by lay the broken and now useless weapons which he had taken from this, his second victim for the day. Oren Dupont shrunk away, and possibly would have made an effort to seek safety in actual flight, but with a swift gesture the being whom he had in his dawning con- sciousness Called “ Crazy Jack,” gripped his rifle by the butt and extended his muscular arm until that grim muzzle rapped head with a. light but significant warning. “ Can your legs outspeed a powder-winged bullet, Oren Dupont?” “ Don’t—I never—pity me, sir!” “ Such pity as you showed me that bitter black night, Oren Dupont?” l “ I never—before Heaven sir, I didn’t have ! anything at all to do with that dirty job! I ' never even knew they meant to whip—” He broke off abruptly, for Crazy Jack cut in with a slow, sneer-ing laugh which match- ed his frozen face well enough, but formed a startling contrast to his vividly glowing eyes. “ Your tongue betrays its master, poor fool! Could I ever forget? Had I not ample length of time in which to make a study of the devils in human guise who stripped me to the skin, then flayed me aiive? ’ “But all Were—” “ Masked, of course," coldly supplied the Mad Detective as that fear-shaken wretch again checked his luckiess tongue. “ Al- though there were a full score armed knavcs against but a single sleeping man, not one of them all dared to show face or speak in un- disguised tones—at first! But later on—when their victim had been beaten to inscnsibility, his back flayed from neck to waist-line, his body bruised and bleeding. his poor brain— Ah, ye devil!” with a portion of that mad fire passing from eyes to voice as he started for- ward and dropped rifle to fasten his terrible fingers upon either shoulder of his helpless foe. “ Look me squarely in the eyes, Oren Dupont, and avow your innocence if ye can!" “ I never—before Heaven I didn‘t—do it!” desperately gasped the wretch, lying for dear life, yet even with so much at stake unable to deceive those glowing orbs. “ Would ye lie to me, dog?" fiercely cried the Mad Avenger, abandoning that forced calmness for the moment, shifting one hand from shoulder to hip, then swinging the craven wretch high above his head as though about to dash him down on the rocky trail l again. A howl of terror, a confused burst of upon his feet, Crazy Jack laughing in cold Contempt as he relaxed his grasp, drawing his gaunt form erect as he spoke again: “Speaking falsely can only shorten your lease on life, Oren Dupont, while telling the wholetruth— Can you do that, think?" “They forced me, sir! I didii t want to hurt—I tried to get out of it all, l)ut——don't I butcher me, sir! Let me go—lt-t me live on, i and I‘ll be your dog for the length of my ; life, sir!" In cold silence the Wild llider listened to , this half unconscious confession, then lifted T a warning hand before which the other im- mediately fell silent, cowering there before his captor in abject fear. “Listen, you devil among devils! What i was I then? What am I now? Time was when I envied no living mortal! Time was when all the world contained no more peace- I ful, contented, happy man than Waldene 5 Itultherford; but now—listen, you whelp of ] CVI i . l “ You and your fellow bloodhounds found i me thus, but how did you leave me? Beaten ' within an inch of my life! Tertured as only i human demons can torture their helpless vic- ; tims! Robbed of strength, of health, of ' reason, even! ‘ Before your coming, I was rich in more ! than this world’s goods. I had gold and acres and stock beyond counting, almost I had more. I had a Wife and child! I had—— oh, you pitiless demons!” His voice grew choked and husky, his ' forced composure gave way under a terrible strain, and his nervouslyworking fingers threatened to once more close in a death-grip on that discolored throat; but again be con- quered his impulse, and resumed his terrible arraignment: “ The devilish wrongs confined to my own person I might possibly for ive, but the rest —my wife! my child! My ose—my Pearl! Tell me of them, ye black-hearted monster! Where are they, now? Whither did ye take them when— Tell me, I say, or—die like the wolf you are!" Once more his hands flew out, to close upon Dupont’s shoulders, and with fiercely-work- ing features face almost touched face. Eyes glowed like balls of electric light. Teeth were bared and clicked together like those of a hungry wild beast who scents fresh blood. “ Don’t kill—I’ll tell all I know i" gasped the craven, hoarsely. Those steel-like fingers instantly opened and their owner drew back a pace, both I hands thrust behind his back the better to resist temptation. “Speak, Oren Dupontl Tell the truth, the whole truth, and live; but if you try to trick me by a lie, you shall die the death of a dog! I swear it by the once happy past l" “I’ll tell you all I know, sir,” began Duo pont, plucking up a little courage to meet that emergency. ” I only wish it was more, but—" “ My wife, my child, dog?” He shook his head, shrinking back with an appealing gesture. “ I wasn’t there, sir. or child; but—” A swift gesture cut his slow, unsteady speech short, then the Mad Detective asked: “ Who is Captain Cowl. Oren Dupont?" The fellow gave a quick start, flashing a I never saw woman frightened lance over his shoulder before making hus yreply: “ Who is— I hardly understand what you mean, sir.” “ You are lying now, Oren Dupont, and each falsohood sends you nearer the grave—- nearer the maw of hungry wolf and glutton- ous buzzard !” the Wild Rider warned, lifting a finger toward the slowly-circling buzzards, for now there was a round half-dozen hover- ing above the heads of captive and captor. “ I don‘t— Why should I— What must I say, then, sir?” “ Tell me all you know about this border raider who calls himself Captain Cowl, the White Hood Chief. Who is he? \Vhat is his rightful name? How man years have you been serving under his lea ‘3" Cold drops of perspiration stood out upon the-pale face of the Cornered wretch, and lze trembled in every joint, his heavy lids partly = closing, like one turning faint. Still, he knew that an answer of some sort must be given this man, and making an effort to rally his powers, he muttered: “ What I don’t know I can’t tell, sir. Only— Shall ,I make my oath by high Hea- Ven, sir?” “ Who is Captain Cowl, Oren Dupont?” pitilessly persisted the other. “If he’s more or other than just Captain Cowl, sir, I swear by all that’s good and holy Ican't tell you!" earnestly assevcrated Du- pont. “I never saw his face, for he always wears his mask while with his men, or when~ ever anyof us are in his neighborhood. And as for his name—” “Speak it. you dog!” “I never heard him called anything but just the boss, or Captain Cowl, or the chief, sir,” desperately an3wered Dupont. “If he has any other name, I can’t swear to it—not to save my very life, sir!” “It is to save your life, Oren Dupontl Give me the information I‘ve sought‘ for so many long years, and you may go free, to run your course until the noose of the com- mon hangman shuts off your wind forever. Will you speak, then ‘1” ' The prisoner hesitated, shifting nervously on his feet, noisieiiing his parched lips with a no le~s feverish tongue, looking like one pom-rfully tempted to speak; either truth, or his coated with plausibility to serve the same purpose! But, insane though this strange being might be, he was not so utterly tichid of wit as to unhesitatingly accept lies for truth, and no man alive knew better than ,s.. '-t Ofen Du" 4 Captain Cowl, the White Hood Chief. pout how surel even a single slip might make all the di erence between life and death in his own case. “ What can I say more than I have, sir?” he finally ventured, huskilfi. “ I‘d gladly tell you what you want to now if I could, but—you won’t take a lie, and I’ve already told you the truth as far as I know it.” For a brief space silence reigned, Crazy Jack gazing intently into that fear lined vis age like one trying to read what might be hidden below the surface; then, with a rapid motion he drew forth a Card from his bosom, turning the face of a woman's photograph fairly before Dupont’s eyes, slowly pronounc- ing the words: - “ For the last time, you devil! Look! Did you ever see a face in life that resembled this sun- icture, Oren Dupont?” “ can’t—it’s mighty hard to remember when you curb a critter up so terrible harsh, boss!” “Think before you speak, I warn you,” added Crazy Jack, with ominous composure, still holding forth that photograph. and mov- ing yet a little nearer the prisoner to afford him a clearer view. “ Now—try to remem- ber aright, if you love your life, dog! Now —tell me this: is there any woman who owns a face at all like this now with Captain Cowl?" The Mad Detective spoke with forced composure, but his blazing eyes warned Du- pont how fiercely the blood-devil raged be- neath that outward calm, and he feared to speak, his eyes once more lowering. To fall again upon that weapon-bristling girdle, where a brace of long knives and a pair of heavy revolvms hung—fairly within reach of his nervous right hand! For the space of a single breath be resisted that fierce temptation; but then, yielding, he snatched at a revolver, cocking it as he 'erked it t' ree, thrastin g muzzle against Crazy ack’s breast as he pulled trigger! CHAPTER III. A BROKEN HEART AND saa'r'rnnsn MIND. SWIFT as was this desperate action, those of the wild being whose life was attempted were none the ess rapid, mind, hand and body all acting in perfect concert. A writhing turn of his trunk, a sharp stroke with his nearest hand came just in time to save his life, for thecartridge prompt- iy responded to the fall of the hammer, and the loss of even a single instant would have rendered all struggles futile. As it was, the bullet sc0i ed his breast and the powder scorched his clothing, the shock of that heavily loaded cartridge causing Crazy Jack to stagger a bit, like one under the influence of strong drink, or a man upon whom the benumbing hand of grim death was closing, once for all. Oren Dupont gave a vicious yell of tri- umph, for he had thrust that muzzle fairly against the breast of his insane foeman, and he could not think that escape from instant death was possible. . “ Now ye have got it!" he cried vindictive- ly, thumb on hammer to fire. a second shot. “Butcher me, will ye? Try to— Ila-a-ai” For, in place of falling in death-throes, Crazy Jack rallied and surged forward, one claw-like hand catching the wrist of his armed hand and thrusting the smoking pistol up and backward, the other closing in a death-grip on his throat. “ Will you, treacherous cur?" shrilly cried the madman as they closed. breast to breast, each nerving himself for what could hardly prove other than a death-grapple. Oren Dupont strove desperately to turn that black muzzle again upon his captor, at the same time trying to bear up against that fierce assault, the first shock of which had so nearly flung him upon his back. For a few seconds the. two men swa ed from side to side, panting as they ca led every ounce of strength into play, each knowing only too well how surely defeat meant death. Breast to breast, face to face, eyes filled with fire, swaying from side to side, now forward. then recoiling as far, but always tight-locked in a mutual grip which little short of death could break. Then Crazy Jack fluu .one leg back of his adversary, and adding is WhOle Wei ht. to the power of his muscles, tripped upont up, both men falling together with a terrible shock. Even that did not end the fight, for Dupont wrestled fiercely, managing to in part slip from beneath his mad antagonist, then fight- ing on as they lay side by side. A score of seconds thus, then another sud- den change. Over iind over the two men rolled, bringing up against the fragment of rock on which Waldene Rutherford had been sitting when his captive recovered con- sciousness. ' The shock was a sharp one, and caused an explosion of the weapon which the desperate outlaw had snatched from the Mad Detec- tive’s belt. A short, half-smothered cry of agony, then those bodies separated, One lying in the last throes of death while the other drew back to stare for a brief space upon the awful work wrought by that pistol. The butt was still clasped by Oren Dupont’s hand, and his finger was still within the trigger-guard, thus plainly proving that he had killed himself while striving to slay his antagonist! Iiis elbow driven against that rock, the re volver had been forced fairly a rainst his face, the explosion doing awful wor , yet merciful in that the luckless wretch could never have known what hurt him. Like one dazed for the moment Crazy Jack stared at that awful spectacle, brushing a hand across his eyes at brief intervals. as though seeking to banish the unwoloome Vision. Then a gloomy croak came floating dowu from the blue above, and giving a start, the Avenger looked _ upward to recognize the sailing vultures. . That sight seemed to break the spell, and instinct resuming its wonted sway, he looked to his own hurts, opening his bloody gar» ments and unflinchingly probing his wounds with finger-tip. Both were bleeding freely, yet neither was much more than skin-deep, and that same instinct seemed to tell him that they would do their own healing if he only let them alone. As he made a part-turn, the sunlight fell across his reddened hands and with a strange, shivering, shrinking, he stared at the still damp fingers, a low sound rising in his throat until it turned to muttered words. “ Red! Why does everything look so much like blood? Red—all red! I thought ——where is he, then?" Dashing hand across his eyes, Rutherford stared around him, dwelling briefl upon the two horses, then passing on until, his gaze was caught by that prostrate shape with mutilated face turned up toward the blue heavens. That muttering changed to a low, soothing hiss. That gaunt figure began to lower and to crouch. A stained finger moved toward those parting lips in the signal for silence. “ ’81) h h!” passed softly over his parched lips as that warning finger lightly crossed them. “Quiet, ye fools! He sleeps—wake him not, lbid ye, for I must— Where is she. devil?” Crouching still lower. the madman crept toward the still form, sinking upon his knees as he gained its side, those final words com- ing in a hiss of wakening passion. His right hand went forth to touch that death-masked visage, then jerked back with startling quickness, its owner recoiling as sharply. His face turned livid and his eyes opened widely as he stared at the fresh blood which marked his hand. “Red—all redi Dead—all dead! What does it mean? Can I never escape from this horrible curse? Will the day never come when— Ha! where am I, now ‘2” Crazy Jack sprung to his feet and stood with both hands tightly clasped over his achin eyes. Re Ghost lifted his head from the bunch- grass which he was nibbling at just then, and after a brief space gave vent to a low whinny. That familiar sound served its purpose right well, for Crazy Jack lowered his hands and gave his head a vigorous shake like one trying to cast aside an ugly dream. He steeped to recover his fur cap, then moved a bit further to pick a the card-pic- ture which he had thrust be ore those now unseeing eyes. He could hardly have helped seeing that ghastly corpse, but he made no sign, passing it by to recover his Winchester rifle, after which he moved acress to where Red Ghost was standing, muttering a few words in an undertone like one who spoke unwittin ly. He betrayed no signs of stiffness orofgpain as he sprung lightly from earth to saddle, and only for those still fresh blood-stains no one could have credited all he had so recent- ly undergone. Red Ghost tossed his head restlessly, as though eager for word or signal, but neither came to him from the lips of his master. Crazy Jack sat silentl on his back, once more lost in a waking dyrcarn. After a brief period of hesitation. the steed turned to take the back track, walking slow- ly. easily, just as though it knew that master was hardly ,fit to take heed for himself. The vultures croaked. the prowling wolf howled afresh, but the Mad Detective aid no heed to either sound. Not once di his head turn for a backward glance; not once did he Seem to remember the corpse he was leaving behind him to the horrid mercies of those furred and feathered scavengers of the desert! For several minutes this silent progress lasted; then the Wild Rider seemed to rouse himself in part, and a blood-marked hand stole into his bosom, to come forth again with that photograph clasped between his unsteady fingers. His breath came in a sharp, painful gasp as his eyes steadied suflicientl to fix upon that sun imprint, and a moanf’ng sound es- caped his lips as he saw—what he had in happier days so fondly kissed—the bright, sweet smile which seemed to light up that truly beautiful face. It was the portrait of a woman still young in years, yet old enough to have learned the deepest, purest love of woman’s life: mater- nity. It showed in her more than fair face, here, even though the photograph had suffer- ed from much handling, as well as exposure- to the weather. “ So fair. and et so false!” hoarsely muto tered Waldene utherford, as he gazed through misty eyes at that pictured face. “Who would dare to even think— A lie, ye devils!" He flung forth a tightly clinched hand and shook it in fierce defiance at those unseen enemies who dared to impugn the perfect. truth and honor of this, his lost wife. “Ye lie in your throats, ye curs! She never betrayed me so foully! She never wrote— But—what is this, then i” Ilis fierce tones broke and grew husky as he fumbled once more in that hidden pocket, to finally produce a soiled and much-worn sheet of note-pa per. Red Ghost tossed an impatient head, whim- pering shortly as though protesting against. this loss of time, but a quick jerk at the reins and a sharp command quieted the animal. Turning more to the sunlig‘ t, brushing a! hand across his dim eyes, the Mad Detective once more read those cruel words which had gone so far toward making him the wretched being he surely was. There was neither date nor place at the head; merely the name which this man had borne with honor if not with distinction in those years now long gone by: Waldene Rutherford. After this name came the words: “This day the living lie ends. I never loved you, though I repeated those fond vows as often as you Seemed to care forthem. if I did notat-tually hate, I feared you—then. Now—I neither fear nor hate: I have room left only for—pity! “ Do you ask me why, Waldene Ruther- ford? “Becauselat last know what real love means! Because my heart has at last found its master! Because— But why say more? " When these lines meet your eyes I w be far away, far beyond your reach, lost to all save love—and my gallant lover! “ Can you make this seem clear, Waldene Rutherford? Can you fully realize the truth: that I am no longer our loved slave. but am the loving slave o the only man this wide world holds for me!” The man gave a groaning gasp as his eyes passed to the final sentence, and a touch of his heels sent Red Ghost onward once more 'AruV‘s‘I ‘ v in. ‘f" I? 1 s g «is. Captain Cowl, the White Hood Chief. 5 He thrust both note and picture back into his bosom, then from the opposite breast he drew forth a Second card, bending over it with a low mean of mingled grief and joy. “My Pearl beyond price! My baby girl! Where art thou, now? Oh, why am I mark- ed out forsuch awful sufferings? Have I been so guilty? Am I eternally cursed in the sight of high Heaven? If not— Oh, my angel babe! If I might only see—if I might only touch you—once!" Hot tears still further dimmed those sunken eyes, and with heart-hungry fervor the ma- niac pressed his fever-parched lips to that sun pictured face, so bright and smiling, so full of babyish joy and arch cunning. Unheeded Red Ghost quickencd his pace, trotting low and level as though fearful of disturbing his sorrowin master, keeping to the back trail with won erful cleverness, yet stopping short with pricked ears and dilating nostrils as he gave a sharp snort of mingle anger and aifright. Roused from his musings by that start and sound, the Mad Detective thrust that precious keepsake into his secret pocket, right hand gripping rifle as he flashed a fiery look ahead, guided by those painted ears; but breaking into a low, harsh chuckle as he saw what had caused Red Ghost to give that abrupt warn- in . $I‘hree long and gaunt-bodied mountain wolves were gathered about a human body lying there upon the blood-sprinkled rocks, and though afraid to actually oppose that in- trusion, they were sullenly growling and showing their white fangs as they reluctantly slunk away from that grim feast. Crazy Jack burst into a maniacal laugh as he saw all this, for he now recognized both body and place: it was here his rifle had sounded the death-knell of one of the men he had sworn eternal vengeance against for wrongs almost without a parallel. That sight banished all softer sentiments, and as that worshiped picture passed from hand to bosom, with its vanishment likewise passed away that human weakness he had been betraying. “ Fettr not, brother devils!” he cried aloud to those skulking wolves. “ Come to the red feast I've spread for thee, brethren! Riot and guzzle, ye imps of the gulches! And ye, winged demons of the air! Come— come to the crimson banquet, my darlings! Come and gorge! Come and fatten! Come and wrangle over this vile carcass until naught by tooth-and-beakpolished bones re- main to mark another mile-stone In my never- ending march of vengeance. ” Then, urging his steed onward, ne cried shrilly once more: “ Come to the feast, all ye devils, for woe to them I seek!” —__. CHAPTER 1V. CAPTAIN cowr. AT nous. THE dense, thorny growth of Chaparral came almost to the foot of that high, stony- sided, ragged-topped hill. yet there was space sufficient left clear by nature to afford foot- hold for such as had there been planted. Close to the scrubby growth rose several spreading-topped trees, the lower branches of which had been cut away to give room for a rude-looking yet fairly-comfortable cabin of sticks and stones, over which had been trained several wild grape-vines, now in fun leaf. although the clusters of fruit were still green and diminutive. , Here and there showed small fires, some still smoldering, others aglow, but the ma- jority more spots of whitened ash. Lying at careless case under the shade were a number of roughly-garbed men, the only thing at all uniform about them being in the belt of arms all wore, supporting knife and brace of navy-size revolvers. Yet, careless as all seemed, this was only on the surface, as was made 0V1dent when a faint, distant whistle came floating through the air. ' Every man sprung to his feet, grasping the ready Winchester which rested within easy reach, but no one uttering word or shout, merely turning eyes and rifle-muzzles toward that point from whence the signal had ema- nated. A tall, richly-clad figure suddenly came into view from some as yet unknown resting- place, one gloved-hand lifting in a silent sig- nal, to these, his men. Then, following that first whistle came another with different modulation, and the tall figure swung his head around to glance over those armed men, a clear, cold voice coming from behind the curious head-cover- ing which he wore: “A false alarm, lads. Go back to your rest, and don’t strain either your eyes or your ears, I humbly beg of you!’ There was an echo of grim mockery in his last sentence, but none of those rough fellows saw fit to make reply in other than in actions; one and all turned away, leaving their masked leader there alone to rreet him whose hoof strokes were now plainl audible. That leader was of tallan athletic build. his every motion denoting both strength and activity beyond the common. For the most part his garb was that cus- tomarily worn by wealthy rancheros from the Mexican side of the Rio Grande; way/U96 shirt of the finest merino, silken sash, short jacket which glittered with gold lace and rich embroidery, trowsers of pale-blue plush, the lower portion of which sunk from sight below the morocco-tops of shapely riding- boots, the last evidently of American manu- facturc. But, stranger than all the rest was his head- covcring: a monk-like hood which came low over his forehead and covered all trace of hair at the back where its lower edge seemed sewed fast to the collar of jacket or of shirt. And, in addition to this cowl, a vail of thin but substantial silk fell over his face and touched his swelling chest, held more per- fectly in place by the heav fringe of gold bullion With which the pen ent portion was bordered. v Both cowl and vail were white as snow, without stain or trace of color other than that golden fringe. ' Searcely had the men fallen back out of ordinary ear-shot than a single horseman came into view around the turn, both man and beast bearing traces of long and rapid traVr-ling. “ You, is it, Tom Ackerman?" sharply challenged the Masked Chief as he sighted this new-comer. “What’s left 0’ me. that is, Captain Cowl!" answered the man, lifting hand to his sweaty and dust-grimed face by way of salute. “ And alone? Where are your mates, then?” “ Gone to——down that-a-wav, bossl” point- in g his grim meaning more clearly by a ges- ture. “Devil's done ketched ’em both, I’m thinkin', sir!” “What sort of devil. you ass?" “ Him—the wu’st I ever hear’n tell on, boss!" “ What!" sharply ejaculated Captain Cowl, right hand clinching tightly as it flew up in a fierce gesture. “Surely not—out with it, man! Where are your two pards, for the last time ?” ‘ _“ I see Frank Ridley go down with a mighty big red shingle lifted off 0’ his roof, boss!” “By whom?” “ That devil, Crazy Jack—no less!” Captain Cowl turned abruptly away, just as a man might who wished to hide from other eyes too eloquent features, seemingly forgetful of that impenetrable mask be con- stantly wore. Tom Ackerman kept silence, improving the opportunity by slipping stifiiy from sad- dle to earth. giving a stifled groan as be straightened his bowed back, like one suffer- ing from rheumatism or lumbago. Faint though that sound was, it reached the acute ears of Captain Cowl. who wheeled swiftly, one hand mechanically grasping a pistol-butt. Ackerman recoiled involuntarily from that burning gaze and menacing gesture, and catching foot against afirmly imbedded stone his cramped limbs failed their master and he fell in a clumsy heap to earth. “ Ididn't——I’l1 be all right. in a minnit, boss!” the worn knave huskily stammered; but. instead of showing anger, Captain Cowl gaveasharp whistle which brought halfa dozen of his rough fellowsin arun to the spot, and to them he spoke: “Look to Ackerman, lads. Give him a bracer if he wants it; give him food as well as drink if he needs so much. Then—Ackeru man ?” ‘ “,On deck, Captain Cowl!” “ Come to the Den, where I’ll be waiting for you, please. Don’t come until you’ve picked up enough to give in aclear report, but—well, I was never famed for my wait- ing propensities, Thomas!” With a low, half-smothered chuckle Cap- tain Cowl turned away, going back in the direction from whence he had suddenly ap- peared, turning a slight spur of that rocky height, then li ting a leafy curtain to enter a wide-mouthed cavern. As the cunnineg arranged vines fell like a vaiibehind him, the masked outlaw found himself in a dim light which seemed little short of utter darkness to one just coming from the clear sunlight without; but he knew every inch of that subterranean re- treat, and as he pressvd forward the light grew clearer and surrounding objects more distinctly visible. A rude metal lamp with glass chimney hung in chains from the rocky roof at a point where the sides and top of that pas- sage grew nearer together, marking the en- trance to what was local] known as “The Den,” and which was ( eemed sacred to Captain Cowl and such of his men as he saw fit to honor by a special invitation. A rude table stood near the rear wall of this rock chamber, garnished with cards, glasses, bottle and cigar-box. Near the table stood a couple of stout chairs, into one of which Captain (owl sunk, uttering a half- smothered oath as be poured forth a heavy dose of liquOr, lifting his silken vail far enough to toss off the fiery draught. \Vorn and weary though' he surely was, Tom Aekerman did not dare keep his chief in waiting for long, knowing as he did what a heavy hand and hot temper that master was cursed with. Drawing near the Den, hegave the regur lation signal, to which Captain Cowl rc- sponded: “ Come!” “ Which I done it 'est as quick as I could, boss,” meekly assure the fellow, baring his head and standing before that half-reclining figure much as a cowed slave faces a stern master. “ All right; I’m not kicking, Thomas. Now ——how about the two men you rode away from camp with, yesterday?" “ One of ’em‘s too mighty dead fer skin- nin’, boss, an’ I reckon all-tw0-botL-on—’em is!” “ How did that come to pass, my pretty lad? Speak along the chalk-line, Thomas, or —-well, you know me, I reckon !" Ackerman told the truth so far as he knew itftrying to conceal nothing, just as though he had full faith his actions would find full justification in the naked facts. “ He killed Ridley at his first shot, then?” “Jest lifted a hunk 0‘ his skull bigger'n my hand, boss!" “ And you? \Vhat Were you and Dupont doing, Thomas?" “Runnin’ off like so many bald-headed tom-turkeys, boss!’ bluntly confessed the fellow, with a sickly grin. “ At fu’st glimp’ we knowed who was bouncin’ us all; an’ when it comes to buckin’ ag’inst Crazy Jack— count me out, pardnerl” “How did you escape him, then?” “Long 0’ his chasin’ Oren Dupont, sir." with deeper gravity. “We come to a split in the trail, an’ while he tuck one, I tuck t‘other. An’so—waal, I hain’t never see'd no more 0’ Oren—nur I don’t reckon I ever will, too!” Captain Cowl made an impatient gesture, then spoke: “All right. Ackerman. I may feel like asking you further questions later. on, but for now you can go. Tell Lieutenant Morales that I am Waiting for him here, please.” Ackerman shuffled away through the gloom like one only too glad to escape so easily, and Captain Cowl let his head droop until chin touched chest, seemingly dozing, or else lOSt in dt'Pp reverica Again his attention was called to the com- int: of a friend, and giving the permission without which none of his men would dare step inside that sacred retreat, a heavily- built yet light-footed man of middle age came into the light. ' I5 :,. ‘ \v 6 Captain Cowl, the White Hood Chief. “You sent for me, Captain Cowl?” he .tage of the moment when Captain Cowl spoke, in pure and unacccn-ted English, although name, dress and features all pro- claimed him of Mexican or of Spanish descent. “How can I Serve you, sir ‘I" “First, by dofling that formal manner, Pedro.” pleasantly said the chief, throwing i back his cowl, but letting the silken vail re- main in place. “12‘s the» comrade I wish to talk \ ith, not the oili